


since we're alone

by louueeeh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louueeeh/pseuds/louueeeh
Summary: louis & harry spend their Christmas Eve at the university. they've never really spoken to each other until now.





	since we're alone

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for susan's secret santa activity!! 
> 
> this is for my lovely mutual karen!! i hope u enjoy this little ficlet i spent two months trying to perfect :') it might be all over the place but i hope u enjoy it nonetheless!! merry christmas!! x 
> 
> based off of niall horan's song 'since we're alone'.

The dorms of the university are just about empty, the bustle of students long gone, and their rooms locked up shut until the holiday break is over. Teachers have already said their goodbyes, probably drinking away their stress and burdens of grading papers and long lectures. Snow has already coated the grass and the trees and hasn’t stopped falling since. Louis takes a glance out of the window that’s over his desk, jumping on his tiptoes in an attempt to warm himself up. He glances down at his now empty workspace, going over the mini checklist in his head to make sure he hasn’t missed anything while packing. Tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, he takes one more overview of his side of the dorm. He’s basically got everything packed up and ready to go, which is a surprise to himself because he damn well knows that if he wasn’t so eager to leave this horrid campus, he would’ve packed an hour before Lottie came to pick him up. Instead, he’s packed a full day in advance. Wow.

What also surprises him is the fact that the other side of the dorm is completely disheveled. His roommate's clothes are hanging out of their drawers and his bed hasn’t been made. Papers, pencils, and textbooks are piled on his desk, messy and unruly, very different from how he usually is. He’s even got empty granola bar wrappers littering the floor that surrounds the bed.

Come to think of it, he hasn’t been in since breakfast.

Not that Louis cares. Or so he tries to convince himself he doesn’t.

In complete honesty, he very well does care and would call him up if he even had his number. The guy doesn’t even interact with him unless he forgets his dorm keys or asks to turn the light off.

Which is truly a shame because Louis may or may not have a crush on him. He may or may not have spent the majority of his uni years orbiting around the green-eyed boy that stormed in and out of their dorm. He may or may not have spent nights trying to find the courage to start up a conversation with him, but ended up falling short, only muttering a ‘goodnight’ before shutting off the light. He may or may not have spent mornings fonding over the way he tousled his long hair into a bun. He may or may not know how he likes to do his homework, with Fleetwood Mac playing from his phone and a piece of gum in his mouth. He may or may not know his favorite color, or the way his eyebrows tilt down in concentration, or the way he mumbles the words to himself as he studies. He may or may not wish he noticed him. He may or may not be worried...is always worried.

He tries to shrug off the feeling anyway.

He decides to go down to the café downstairs to meet with Niall one last time, but as he’s about to open the door, he hears a familiar, hushed voice from outside. “Mum...I’m really sorry. Yes, I know, I know. I just--I’ve been...Of course, you’ve made it clear how supportive you are!” he hears the voice exclaim. Louis really shouldn’t eavesdrop but…

“What? No...Mum...are you sure? But, what about…?” There’s a slight pause. _I should really walk away from the door right now._ “I love you so much, Mum. I’ll come ‘round by New Years, I promise. Tell Gem and Dad I said hi. Yes...I will...Alright, goodbye.”

And just before Louis could back away from the door, it opens, hitting him right in the face.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Ah, shit! Sorry! Sorry!” His roommate, Harry, exclaims, reaching out to steady Louis. He grips onto Louis’ arms and then gently grabs his face, examining him quickly.

“Is it bleeding?! Am I bleeding?!” Louis dramatically exclaims (You can’t blame him, though. He is majoring in drama). He feels his heartbeat race as Harry softly touches his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

“No, Lou, you’re not,” he assures and Louis almost melts at the fact that he called me Lou. _He knows my name? I didn’t even know he knew my name._

“You sure?!”

“I’m pretty sure,” Harry replies, releasing his hold on Louis. “I’m sorry again. What were you doin’ behind the door anyway?” He questions.

 _I was listening in on your conversation, that’s what I was doing._ “I was just about to, uh, leave to the café,” Louis replies instead, his hands finding their way into the pocket of his hoodie. He smiles sheepishly, trying to get his heart to stop pounding and his stomach to stop flopping around.

Harry stares at him for a moment, his eyebrows raised, then nods, making his way around Louis’ body to walk over to his desk. “Well, alright. See you later,” he simply says. Louis hears the slight creak of the desk chair, and he quickly glances over his shoulder to see Harry settling down in front his desk, scanning through the various papers scattered among him. He hears him sigh.

And, Louis should really just leave right about now. Forget he heard any conversation and go downstairs to have some weird sugary caffeine concoction and have one last laugh with Niall before he heads home to Donny.

But, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks awkwardly, “So, uh...You goin’ home for the holidays?” The question hangs in the air, and he hears Harry stop shuffling.

There’s a cough. “Uh...no, actually. Stayin’ here,” replies Harry.

“Oh,” Louis replies. I’ll come around New Year’s, he remembers Harry saying, and realizes that’ was what he was talking about with his Mum. He’s staying over for the holidays. He’s not going to see his family over the holidays. It basically pains Louis to even think about it.

Because, for as long as he could remember, Christmas was probably the best time of year for him. Not because his birthday fell on Christmas Eve -- which wasn’t an advantage as a kid, contrary to popular belief -- but because he was surrounded by the people he loved the most; his gorgeous sisters, the two lovely toddlers, his loving step-father and his ethereal mother, all squashed up in their small Doncaster home, sharing love and laughter and all things he enjoyed. Imagining a Christmas without his family churns his stomach and clenches his heart.

An image of Harry smocked up in a cozy sweater, comfortable and glimmering and all things soft, conjures up in Louis’ mind. He imagines his dimpled smile glowing under firelight, curls unruly and hands drowning by the oversized sleeves. He tries to imagine Harry without any of that. And it just isn’t right.

He swallows and musters up another question. “If you don’t mind me asking…why?” His voice comes out small and quiet. He can hear the scratch of a pencil stop, and the click of it being placed down. It’s almost silent if you don’t count the pounding of Louis’ heart in his ears. He waits, still standing in front of the door, his head turned to look over his shoulder.

“I...kind of failed a few classes and I need to, uh, catch up,” Harry replies. Louis can hear the sadness in the drawled out, deep voice and he kind of just wants to take the boy in his arms and hug him really tight. Instead, he just nods softly and clears his throat.

“Rough.”

“Yeah.”

He turns completely around to look at Harry, to try and catch his glance, but his back is already facing him, and he’s back to scribbling. He even hears a slight sniffle, and he wants to scream because my cute roommate is crying and isn’t going home for Christmas what in the fuck is this.

So, he leaves. He exits the dorm with the soft click of the door ringing in his ears, his heart racing and his mind working out a plan that’s probably gonna go wrong but he’s going to take the chance anyway. He quickly pulls his phone out to make sure Niall is down at the café, and then he’s racing down the hallways.

He doesn’t know Harry that well. He doesn’t know his story or his background, not even the kid’s middle name. But what he does know is that nobody should be alone on Christmas.

Especially the fascinating, green-eyed boy sitting in their dorm.

\--

“You’re gonna what?” Niall asks from across the table, almost crushing the small cardboard cup in his hands.

“Spend the holidays here,” Louis replies. His eyes cast downward on the sickeningly sweet drink in front of him as Niall’s jaw slacks, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes wide.

“And why the fuck would you wanna do that?!” He exclaims. “You spend every Christmas with your family!? What made you change your mind?” He’s looking at Louis like he’s fucking crazy, and to be fair, he kind of is. Louis’ eyes remain on the cup. “Is it your grades? Are you failing?” No response. “Did you and Lottie have a fight? Because if you did you’re being a fucking twat and you should go home anyway.” Still not answering.

Niall’s mouth shuts for a moment before it drops open again, his eyes wider than ever. “Is...is it because of Harry?” Louis finally looks up but doesn’t answer. “Oh my god, did you finally confess your undying love for him? Oh my god, what happened?”

“Niall!” Louis warns because people are starting stare at them now, but Niall’s like an energetic puppy so he doesn’t, in fact, stop.

“You better speak the fuck up or I’m going to ask Harry myself.”

“Would you shut up so I can fuckin’ explain, then?” Louis retorts. Niall is unfazed. He continues, “I just...he’s staying here for the holidays, Ni. The whole holiday break. And I feel kind of bad that he’s gonna have to stay back here alone, you know? Everyone goes home for the holidays…”

“So, what you’re saying is you’re giving up your holiday to be here with a guy you barely even speak to but have a massive crush on? Louis, I’m sorry, but you’re screwed,” he replies, shaking his head as he leans back into his chair. Louis feels his cheeks flush, but he stands his ground.

“It’s not like that. Nobody deserves to be alone on Christmas,” he replies.

Niall scoffs. “Yeah, sure, okay. I know you’re basically in love with the lad, but come on, Tommo. Think sensibly. If you’re tryin’ to get him to fall in love with you too, he’s probably dense as fuck, because he should already be. Such a thick head on that guy,” he scoffs. He’s had to deal with Louis whining about how he’s never gonna be noticed by his ‘attractive as fuck’ roommate, and then Niall has to remind Louis that there are, like, fifty people in this school that would gladly give Louis attention, because let’s face it, Louis is probably one of the most talented and gorgeous boys on campus. He’s basically got girls and guys fawning over him.

But, Louis has an iron grip, so it’s no use.

  
“I’m not trying to get him to fall in love with me! I actually want to be his friend, you know,” he says softly.

“And you choose to do that now?”

“Oh, sod off,” Louis mutters, taking a sip of his drink. He grimaces at the overwhelming sweetness. Never ordering this again. “I didn’t come down here to be judged. This is my last day with you before you go back to fuckin’ Mullingar.”

Niall chuckles, his head shaking. “I’m not judgin’ you, Tommo. But, whatever, have a good holiday here with Styles. I’ll be at home drinkin’ my days away,” he teases. And Louis smiles because that is the most Niall Horan thing he’s heard all day.

“I will have a good holiday. We both will,” he reassures, more to himself than to his best friend

The topic is swept off the table in an instant, and they get on with their usual café hangout agenda — they discuss their events during the week, shit on their professors and laugh about nothing. In the back of his mind, though, Louis thinks of ways to make this Christmas the best one — for both him and Harry.

When the boys part ways, Louis heads back to the dorm to find it empty once more. He sighs to himself and plops himself down onto his bed, head still whirring and blood pumping from the sugar of his drink. He looks over at Harry’s side of the room, at the piles of textbooks and wads of crumpled paper. He sighs once more.

_Well, it’s all or nothing, Tommo._

—

After a very long, tiring discussion with his Mum and sisters, it’s official that Louis is staying on campus for holiday break. It was a difficult conversation, but bless his mother’s soul for being so understanding. He didn’t exactly mention Harry or the true purpose of his stay (“I’m getting a head start on second semester!”), but nonetheless, his Mum was such a kind soul. He may have to spend a few weekends making it up to his girls (and his boy, Ernie, that lovely bean) but it’s all been settled.

Now, all he has to do is plan out his next few weeks. With Harry. He’s spending holiday break with Harry…

He really feels crazy now.

_When are you not crazy, Tommo?_

He continues to unpack his suitcase, shoving clothes back into small drawers and lazily hanging up coats and dress shirts. It’s a pain, but that’s what he gets for spontaneously deciding to stay on campus. As he clumsily folds and stuffs, he tries to figure out what on Earth he’s going to do to try and make this break fun. Obviously, he’s not going to straight up tell Harry that he’s here because he feels bad that his roommate is going to be alone, but...he’ll try and subtly imply it.

Suddenly, as he’s stuffing a sweater into one of his drawers, the door swings open once again, Harry storming in with his coat flying behind him. It’s like there’s a grey cloud hung over his head because the moment he stepped into the room, Louis felt a wave of uneasiness flood into the atmosphere. It made him sad. _Stop being so sad, Curly._

Harry probably didn’t notice Louis was in the room because when he glanced over to his side of the room, he jumped slightly. “Fuck, Lou. What’re you doin’ here?” He asks, his voice high in question. Louis instantly flushes, his hands fumbling with the sweater in his hand.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?”

“You just, uh...Don’t you, like...go home usually?” He says, and Louis’ heart flips. Harry clears his throat. “For the holidays, I mean. Like, obviously not every day.” He tugs on the sleeves of his coat awkwardly, eyes shifting from Louis’ face and the floor.

And Louis?

He’s basically dying. His heart is about to break through his chest and his stomach is in tangled knots of nerves and anticipation. _He notices you. He knows your holiday schedule. He also called you Lou again._

He gathers everything in him to respond. “Oh, well...yeah. I just wanted to get a headstart on second semester, you know?” He turns back around to stuff the sweater in his drawers, praying to God that he sounds as casual as he hopes he does. He tries to keep his eyes on his clothes, tries to keep his feet on the ground. He feels Harry shift, the silence enveloping them in discomfort and uncertainty.

“Oh,” Harry simply says moments after. Louis turns to see him shaking off his coat, tossing onto his bed, revealing a simple white t-shirt. He can see the tattoos that trace his stomach and v-line. He looks away again.

“Yeah.”

And then it’s silent again. Louis continues to unpack with rigid movements, and Harry sits at his desk, scribbling and flipping pages and mumbling to himself like he always does. When Louis finishes, he slowly walks over to his bed and sits, hands in his lap, unknowing of what to say or do. He takes a peek at Harry, and he tries to think of a topic to start a conversation. But he comes up short.

He decides to lay back on his bed, eyes shifting to the roof. He doesn’t dare try to say a word because, for one, he doesn’t want to disturb Harry’s studying. And, he doesn’t want to risk saying something idiotic. He settles on staring into space, thinking of things to do to sort of impress Harry. What can he do on campus that’s fun and creative? What does Harry take interest in? What is he even majoring in?

He doesn’t have the courage to ask yet.

After about thirty minutes, the silence becomes almost suffocating. If they had a clock in their room, Louis swears he would be able to hear the soft tick tick tick of the hands. He could basically hear him and Harry breathing. Along with that, Louis hasn’t moved from his position and his back is starting to hurt but it’s just so quiet and awkward. He tries to shift quietly but the bed creaks so much so he’s stuck on his back. He sighs quietly to himself.

Suddenly, the desk chair drags outwards and Harry is putting his coat on again. Louis hikes himself up on his elbows. “Where you off to?”

Harry jumps once again, probably forgetting Louis was in the room. He quickly glances at him, face stoic. “Gettin’ dinner,” he says. He rakes a hand through his messy head of curls and shakes the collar of his coat open. He turns back to Louis. “Need anything?”

Louis instantly shakes his head. “‘M fine,” he manages to choke out. And Harry nods, face still blank, and then he’s out of the room in the blink of an eye. Louis sighs.

“Stop being such a fuckin’ loser, Tomlinson,” he says to himself, pushing his body up to sit, his head falling into hands. The break hasn’t even officially started yet and he’s already regretting his decision. He sighs.

He looks back over to Harry’s side of the room, staring at the clutter of books and papers everywhere. And like the flicker of a candle, he gets an idea. A bad one...but still an idea. He pushes himself off his bed and hurries over to the desk, and then slowly, starts to sort through the papers and books to find a common subject they relate to. He does it attentively, glancing over his shoulder every few minutes just in case Harry comes back. Because the guy doesn’t even knock. _Jesus._

Yes, he’s well aware it’s not right to snoop through your roommate's stuff but he doesn’t know anything about him. He needs some kind of lead.

He notices instantly that all the books relate to music theory and musical composition. He sees that majority of the stray papers are staff paper, with notes scribbled all about them. There must be pages of them, original songs and evaluations of different pieces. He scans over them, fully amazed at the number of songs there are, and then he starts to wonder if Harry has ever performed any of these before.

Come to think of it, he hasn’t even heard Harry sing or play anything yet. Sure, he hums a bit to his music when he’s working, but Louis doesn’t recall hearing him sing out loud, or ever came home with some kind of instrument. It strikes up a curiosity in him. He really doesn’t know Harry at all. And he really, really wants to change that.

He goes back to his bed, quickly grabbing a small notepad and pencil from his book bag on the way. He writes _ **Operation: Have a Harry Little Christmas**_ up on the top, and then adds his first bullet point:

**_Likes music/is majoring in music theory._ **

And it’s a small start. But a start nonetheless.

He gets a kick of inspiration, and soon enough he’s writing down places, ideas — anything he thinks Harry will find relatively fun. After a few minutes of scribbling and hard thinking, he tosses the notepad onto his desk. He lies back, feeling slightly accomplished with himself. And also tired. But he tries to push through the fatigue anyway. He alternates from playing a game on his phone to mindlessly texting Niall stupid shit, not getting more than an emoji in reply. He even gets a bit hungry, but he can’t bother to get up from his bed. He’ll just eat a heavy breakfast tomorrow morning.

Soon enough, he finds his eyes drooping closed. He’s out like a light at that point.

—

Harry swings the door open, his hands freezing but his stomach full. He pushes the door closed with his foot, his hands occupied with a sandwich and a bottle of Gatorade. He notices the lights are still on and is about to say something, but sees a sleeping Louis on top of his bed. Still, in trackies and a hoodie, he’s basically knocked out over his covers, hair tousled and mouth open.

It’s quite cute.

He chuckles at the sight, shaking his head slightly. He looks down at the sandwich in hand, which was originally for his roommate, but shrugs to himself. He slowly strides over to Louis’ desk, trying not to make any noise. He starts to set the food down on the desk but then contemplates. It’d be weird if he just woke up with food on his table and he’s going to know it’s from him. But, he obviously didn’t eat dinner. He’s going to be hungry in the morning.

Glancing back at the sleeping boy, he notices him shiver a bit. He shifts to lay on his side, and he curls up, making himself look smaller than he actually is. He makes a small noise and yawns. It’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen Louis do.

Not that he watches Louis a lot...

Harry’s fucking stomach flips and his lips twitch, threatening to break out in a smile. He bites it back though, nibbling on his bottom lip. He sees Louis shiver again. He quickly grabs one of the extra blankets he has lying on his bed and drapes it over the boy, making sure not to wake him up. Yes, he’ll probably wake up confused as to why he has one of Harry’s blankets on his body, but he can handle the confrontation. He wants to brush the hair away from his eyes, but he decides not to, in fear of waking him up.

He notices Louis pull the blanket closer to him. He smiles, feeling so fucking fond. And he realizes how nice it is to have him around more, even though he can barely start a conversation with him.

He leaves the food on his desk. He’ll give to him tomorrow.

—

It’s day one of the holiday break, three days from Christmas. Louis wakes up with a jolt, the sound of a door being closed ringing in his ears. He pulls the blanket that’s currently on his body — wait, he doesn’t remember putting a blanket on. This blanket isn’t even his! He thrashes a bit, kind of freaked out at the random blanket, but stops when he hears a soft giggle. He glances over at Harry, who’s watching him from his chair, a sandwich in his hands. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What’re you laughing at?”

“I don’t have any fatal diseases if that’s why you’re thrashing so much,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. Louis’ face flushes.

“Well, you can’t blame me,” he replies. “A random blanket just showed up on my body. Of course, I’m gonna freak out.”

Harry chuckles, and it’s a marvelous sound Louis will probably never forget. It’s light and it’s soft and it’s all things sweet and mesmerizing, complementary to the smile that’s painted on his face. It’s like taking a sip of cold water after a being out in the sun for so long, finally having a conversation with someone you’ve been dying to talk to since day one.

He tosses the sandwich to Louis, and he catches it instantly. “Was supposed to be your dinner but you were knocked out,” he says and also tosses the Gatorade. Louis basically beams at his consideration. You’re so fucking sweet, you’re giving me cavities.

“Wow. Thanks.”

Harry shrugs. “No problem,” he says, and turns back around in his chair. Louis stares as he casually goes back to work, the conversation dropping instantly. It discourages him a bit. He tries to shrug it off anyway.

Getting up from his bed, he quickly grabs a change of clothes and his toiletries basket (that Niall makes fun of all the time, that little shit) and quickly exits the room, heading down to the bathrooms to freshen up. His heart is still fighting against his chest, excited and nervous and basically ecstatic. His mind is so clouded, it takes him about ten minutes to find the fucking bathrooms. Thankfully, since half the campus is empty, he doesn’t have to wait for anybody to get out of the showers or move away from the sinks.

He cleans up quickly, spending extra time on fluffing out his hair the way he likes. He decides to dress up a bit more, pulling on a nice thick, black hoodie and some skinnies. He stares at himself in the long mirror. “You fuckin’ got this, Tommo,” he says to himself. _This is so stupid_. “You’re going to make the next few days amazing. You’re gonna go back up there and ask Harry to breakfast. You’re gonna go back up there and be Harry’s friend.” He smiles at himself, standing up straight, pushing his fringe away from his eyes. He’s Louis Tomlinson. _He can do this._

When he gets back up to the room, he can hear some soft singing from behind the closed door. He smiles at the sound, and carefully, he opens up the door to enter. There he sees Harry, leaned back in his desk chair, voice deep and rumbly in his chest as he sings along to _R U Mine?_ By _Arctic Monkeys_. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed. His hair is down and curling around his ears and neck, brown waves cascading down and out every which way. He slowly steps in, taking in the sight. Harry, unknowing of Louis’ presence, continues to sing: “ _I just wanna hear you say, ‘You got me, baby.’ Are you mine?_ ”

He tries not to melt down into the carpet.

Harry stops once he notices Louis in the doorway. His cheek turn a dusty pink color, making him look so much younger than he does. “Oh. You’re back.”

Louis chuckles. “I am,” he says. Leaning back on the door, he smiles sheepishly, trying to come off as cool as possible. _This is so ridiculous, you’re literally a year above him. Stop being so weird._ “So, you sing?”

_Really, Louis? That’s the best you can do? For fuck’s sake._

“I do, yeah,” Harry responds. He’s smirking, playing with some rings that are wrapped around his fingers. “It’s what I plan to do when I graduate.” Louis nods, trying to bite back a fond smile. He can see the way Harry’s eyes light up at the topic, the twitch at the corner of his lips threatening to break out into a huge smile.

“You study it, then?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

And there it is, the big beaming smile Louis was waiting to see. Harry nods softly. “Yeah. Music theory.” _Bingo._

Mustering up all the courage in his body, Louis straightens up and asks, “Wanna go out to breakfast and tell me more about it?” His voice comes out stronger than he expected it to be, but his stomach is still stirring and the heartbeat in his ears is overwhelming. His hands are gripping the hems of his hoodie, and he can feel himself start to sweat.

Harry’s face goes through a series of looks; one of surprise, one of amusement, and one of...something Louis can’t quite distinguish. He doesn’t say a word, just stands up and grabs his coat that’s hanging on the back of his chair. As he slips it on, Louis watches in confusion. _Is he just going to leave? Did I really fuck up that bad?_ He wants the floor to swallow him whole.

Then, Harry stands. He smiles. “First of all, you better eat that sandwich, later on, today or I will. Second, why did you decide to ask me this now?”

Louis chuckles and shrugs a shoulder. Green eyes twinkle at him in mischief. Oh, god. “It’s Christmas?” He replies cheekily. Harry chuckles in reply.

“Good enough. Let’s go then?”

_You better not screw this up, Tommo._

—

Louis takes them to a café a few blocks away from the campus. He calls it ‘The Better Starbucks’ because although his love for Starbucks is immense, this small joint serves the best hot chocolate and Nutella croissants. Plus, they usually play the best playlists.

Harry’s sitting across from him, looking out of the window they’re sitting near. Snowflakes sit in his long curls and on his brown coat. His fingers are tapping against the cup in his hands, his eyes watching the snow that’s casting over London. He’s smiling too, a soft grin, his dimples barely popping out.

Louis enjoys the sight. A lot. He wants to take a picture and save it, keep the memory safe to himself. He wants to paint his profile, outline his favorite parts and color in his favorite colors. He wants this to be what he sees every day, instead of him rushing in and out of a small dorm.

He’ll get there. Or, he’ll try.

He takes a sip of his hot cocoa before he speaks. “So...music theory?” The phrase snaps Harry out of his daze. He looks at Louis, smiling bigger. 

  
“Yes, music theory,” he echoes. Still tapping on his cardboard cup, silver rings glistening under the café’s soft lighting. The snowflakes are starting to melt. You’re so beautiful, it’s overwhelming.

“Why that major?” Louis asks softly. There’s that twinkle in his eyes again. It makes Louis’ heart dance.

Harry leans back in his chair. He runs a hand through his hair, ruffles it a bit and fixes it so it falls perfectly on top of his shoulders. “It’s just interesting, you know? It’s like...maths but in a cool way. You get to learn the basics of writing and creating music, while also seeing how far you can push the boundaries. There’s really no limit when it comes to it.” He speaks slow and drawled, and he makes gestures with his hands while he speaks. It’s mesmerizing in a way, calming and smooth, like pouring honey out of a jar. Louis listens intently, leaning forward with his head in his palm. Harry smiles at him. “So many artists always stick to this one small box, you know? A set standard for how their music should sound or be made.” He leans forward too, emerald eyes staring into Louis’, glimmering and excited and stunning. “Not me, though. When I release my own music, it’ll be my only style. My own specific genre. None of that mainstream media stuff,” he states, raising his eyebrows cheekily.

Louis’ heart is exhilarating.

“Big dreams you got there, Styles,” he teases softly. Their faces are just a few mere inches away from each other, and he can feel his breath when he chuckles.

“Go big or go home,” he whispers back. Suddenly, he leans back in his chair. Crossing his arms, he nods towards Louis. “How about you, Lou? Why theater arts?” It really catches him by surprise because he doesn’t remember telling Harry his major. Maybe once, when they first met…

“It’s been my thing since high school, really. Loved the attention,” he says, winking quickly at Harry, earning another soft chuckle to erupt from the boy. “I starred as Danny Zuko in our production of _Grease_ , and since then, I just...I wanted to be on stage all the time. I love the acting, the improv — all of that fun stuff.”

Harry is looking at him again with that face. It’s like a mixture of admiration and curiosity or something along the lines of that. It makes Louis feel a bit insecure, makes him want to guard up himself and take back everything he’s said. You’re driving me crazy, Harry.

Then, just like that, the look is gone.

“Danny Zuko, huh?” Harry questions, smirking. When Louis nods, he replies in a sultry, low voice, “Tell me about it, stud.”

There’s silence for a second. Another one. And another.

Until, Louis doubles over in laughter, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as the giggles spill out. Harry does the same, his dimples deepening as his smile grows. He’s staring at Louis with such mischievous eyes, something childlike and lively. Louis can feel his eyes start to crinkle at the corners. They laugh for a while, not giving a care about the people who are staring at them. They don’t give a second glance at the glares or the disapproving looks. They just laugh. Louis swears he could feel a click between them, something drawing them closer by the minute. He hopes to God Harry can feel it too.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Louis exclaims once he catches his breath.

Harry’s still giggling when he responds. “Well, I did.” He takes a deep breath to maintain his composure, but his smile is still as big as ever.

“You’re incredibly endearing,” Louis finds himself saying, the words tumbling out without any second thought. For the first time today (or ever), he sees Harry blush, and the sight sends his heart soaring. He doesn’t quite respond at first. Louis takes another sip of his hot chocolate, his face beginning to feel hot as well.

“So are you,” replies Harry a few moments later, voice soft and slow. _Oh._

It becomes silent again, with the café’s ambiance filling up the empty spaces. Harry takes sips of his drink, eyes gazing back out the window, cheeks still pink. The snowflakes have completely melted at this point, his hair a bit wet but still lovely. He’s still smiling. Louis really, really wants to save this.

He takes one last sip of his hot chocolate. Taking a few pounds from his pocket, he sets them down on the table. Harry notices, and his face scrunches up. “You don’t have to pay full, you know? I’ll chip in,” he insists. He starts to dig through his coat pockets, but Louis stops him.

“No, I invited you out. I’ll pay,” he says. Harry starts to shake his head, pulling out his wallet to grab a few bills. “Harry, seriously!”

“It’s only fair!” Harry retorts. He goes to set the bills down, but Louis grabs his hand. It’s warm to the touch, skin soft and smooth.

“I’ve got this. It’s fine,” he says, pushing Harry’s hand back towards him. The pink hue on his cheeks deepens. Louis strokes his hand a bit before he pulls away. Just for fun. When did you start being so brave, Tomlinson?

“If you say so,” Harry simply replies, and slowly slips the bills back into his wallet, stuffing it back into his coat pocket. Louis smiles at him, giving him a reassuring nod of the head.

“It’s fine. Promise.”

The bite of a lip, a growing smile, and some dimples appear once again.

“Okay.”

—

Harry wants to take this boy into his arms and hug him. Really hard.

They’re slowly walking down the streets back to the campus, and it’s still snowing. Louis’ got his hands swinging back and forth as he walks, his hands occasionally stretching out to catch some snowflakes in his hands. The sleeves of his hoodie drag over his hands and the hem of it stops mid thigh. It makes him look incredibly small.

They’ve been trading facts about each other since they left the café. He now knows that Louis likes KFC and thinks that there needs to be more locations in London. He also now knows his favorite color is, in fact, blue. He knows he has a big family that includes a lot of females. He’s now humming You’re The One That I Want softly to himself because it’s his favorite song from the movie and it’s just very...adorable.

He’s never really had the chance to look at Louis this close. He’s seen the small things; the way he likes to burrow into the covers while sleeping, the way he scribbles notes into his hand when he really needs to remember something, the way he sings along to Harry’s music sometimes when they’re both studying. But, he’s never seen Louis like this. He’s always seen him as protective, rigid, someone stoic and guarded. Here though, in the snow, on the street — he looks beautiful. More beautiful than Harry thought he was before.

He doesn’t quite know why Louis all of a sudden invited him out, but he’s glad he did. He really is. He decides to ask anyway. He gazes down upon the older boy (which is strange, someone so small being so much older than you). “So,” he starts. Louis looks up at him through his eyelashes. “Why are we out all of a sudden?”

The question must’ve caught Louis off guard because his face falters a bit before he replies. “Christmas courage?” He replies.

Harry chuckles. “Is that even a thing?”

“It is now,” Louis replies, shrugging.

He shakes his head. “Really, though? Why?”

“I’ll tell you soon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

And with a soft smile, blue eyes look up at him, reassuring and mischievous at the same time. “Trust me.”

Harry’s heart basically sighs.

_Don’t you know you got the best of me?_

—

Louis wakes up the next day alone. It’s colder than usual, and when he glances outside, the snow is falling faster, coating the fields with white fluff. He looks around for any trace of Harry, but he’s nowhere to be found. There’s a bit of disappointment in his stomach, but he ignores it. He can hear his phone buzzing on his desk. He slowly sits up, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He trudges over to grab his phone, and he instantly smiles at the overload of messages.

There’s a few from Niall:

**_happy birthday u lil shit !! hope u n harry r havin funnnn ;)_ **

**_also u still suck for stayin on campus for ur bday_ **

**_but i still love u_ **

**_have fun xx_ **

Some from Zayn and Liam:

**_happy birthday bro!! Hope all is well back at campus ;)))))))_ **

**_happy bday lou lots of love x_ **

There’s about 4 missed calls, two of them from Stan and Oli, and two from his mum. He sighs happily to himself, heart warm and full. He may not be home with them right now, but he’s never felt so appreciative of them. He sends a quick text to his lads, telling them he’ll call them back as soon as possible. He takes his phone and sits back on his bed, legs crisscrossed and blanket draping over his shoulders. He calls his mum back.

A chorus of voice answer instantly. “Happy birthday, Boobear!” They exclaim, all lively and high-pitched. The feeling of home rushes through him instantly.

“Thank you, babies,” he replies softly. When he hears them all giggle in reply, he laughs along to. There’s so much love in him, he thinks he’s going to burst.

“I miss you, love!” His mother says, her voice calming and sweet. The sound of his mother’s voice instantly gives him a feeling of home and comfort, and soon enough, he can feel tears well up in his eyes. He sniffles, letting out a wet laugh. His mother sighs. “Oh, baby, don’t cry.”

“‘M sorry. I just miss you lot,” he whispers, bringing a sleeved hand up to wipe away the tears. He can’t stop smiling.

“We miss you too, Boo. How’s it going over there?” Jay asks.

“It’s fine, Mum,” he says, fully meaning it. Memories of the day before rewind in his head, along with the overwhelming emotions that accompanied them. “I’m doin’ fine.”

He can hear the smile in her voice when she responds, “That’s good, honey. Anyone there with you?”

And, as if he’s been summoned, Harry slowly comes into the room, a small cake in hand. It catches Louis by surprise because he doesn’t remember mentioning his birthday yesterday, or ever at all. But, here he is, smiling softly, a chocolate cupcake in his hand with a flickering candle stuck into it. Then, he softly starts singing. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!”

Louis wants to die. He could die right here and it’d be completely fine.

“Louis?” His mother calls. “Who’s that singing?”

“Uhm…”

“Happy birthday to Louis! Happy birthday to you!” Harry finishes the song, carefully seating himself next to Louis, his leg pressing against him. He’s in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. The unruly curls are covered by a green beanie but it’s barely containing them, brown ringlets popping out every which way. Snowflakes are melting into droplets on his shirt. He’s also warm. Very warm.

“It’s, uh, my roommate,” Louis finally responds. Harry beams at him. He lifts the cupcake up to his face, the candle still flickering between them. Their eyes meet, and just that simple gesture sends shivers up Louis’ spine. Their faces are really close. Really close.

Harry’s lips are also very pink.

“Blow it out,” he whispers.

“Not now,” Louis whispers back to him.

“Why are you whispering?” Jay interrupts.

_Oh, right. She’s on the phone._

“Sorry, mum. I was talkin’ to Harry, the roommate,” Louis tells her, still looking at the boy with sparkling eyes. Harry smirks.

“Hi, Mrs. Tomlinson!” Harry shrieks into the phone, causing Louis to flinch. He shoves him a bit, chuckling. He can hear his mother giggle.

“Hi, sweetie! Boobear, put me on speaker!” She demands. Louis rolls his eyes and does as he's told. Harry’s smirking at him, his body leaning into Louis’ shoulder. When he turns to face him, his face is so close, he can see specks of yellow in the midst of the emerald green. “Hi, Louis’ roommate!”

“My name’s Harry, ma’am! Harry Styles,” he introduces himself. Louis’ cheeks are hurting from smiling for too long.

Jay chuckles. “Hello, darling. I’m Jay.”

Louis fake pouts, and screams into the phone, “Hey! Birthday boy needs some attention here!”

“Blow your candle out first!” Harry interjects. So, Louis does. He blows it out directly in front of Harry’s face, the smoke fizzling out in front of him. He smiles cheekily, poking out his tongue. Harry’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “You’re gross.”

“You told me to blow it out.”

And you know what Harry does?

He scoops up a dollop of frosting from the cupcake and _boops_ Louis’ nose with it. He’s got that childish glint in his eyes again. Louis glares at him, but he’s laughing. “You’re a shit.”

“Should I hang up?” Jay’s tone is teasing and Louis is well aware that she’s smirking. He also knows that he’s going to be interrogated as soon as possible.

“No! I’m sorry, I interrupted your conversation,” Harry instantly apologizes, still gazing at Louis. He reaches out again, trying to wipe the frosting off Louis’ nose, but Louis catches his hand. Caught off guard, his cheeks flush a light pink. Louis raises his eyebrow as if he’s asking What are you doing? “Was gonna wipe it off,” Harry whispers. Louis nods.

“Go on then,” he says. Softly, Harry raises his free hand and quickly swipes the frosting off of the boy’s button nose with his thumb. With curious eyes, Louis watches as Harry brings the thumb up to his mouth, his pink lips wrapping around it to suck at the frosting. When he pulls the digit out of his mouth, he smiles innocently. Louis almost chokes on his own tongue.

_Oh, fuck._

With their hands still linked together, Louis says into the phone, “Thank you for calling, Mum. I promise to catch up later. Tell the girls I love them!”

“Of course, Boobear,” she replies. Harry’s eyes widen and he’s biting down on his laugh to hold in a chuckle. Louis’ fingers intertwine with his, squeezing tight, his eyes fierce and playful. He feels livid, playful. Alive. “I’ll call you again tonight, yes? Have fun with Harry!” She says.

“Nice to talk to you, Mrs. Tomlinson!” Harry says quickly. She chuckles in response, and soon enough, the phone call ends.

Their hands are still intertwined, and it feels absolutely normal. Feels like placing the last puzzle piece into the nearly done canvas. Feels like finishing up your last sip of warm coffee. Feels like home. The boys stare at each other, a static feeling stirring up between them. Louis’ heart is palpitating, and his throat is drying up. He knows he’s starting to sweat, but Harry’s hand is still in his, stroking patterns in the skin between his first finger and his thumb. His hand is so much larger than his but they fit too perfectly. He thinks he’s holding his breath too because he’s starting to feel a bit woozy. It’s a good type of woozy. He feels light and airy. High on happiness.

Harry is the first one to speak. “Hope you like chocolate cake. That was the only flavor the shop had,” he whispers, slowly slipping the little cupcake into Louis’ free hand. His eyelash flutter against his cheeks as he blinks.

“How’d you even know it was my birthday?”

“I remember things.”

There’s a squeeze and a thrill of excitement. “Oh,” Louis manages to say. Harry shrugs, grinning. He slowly pulls his hand away and leans more into Louis’ side.

“Yep,” He replies, popping the ‘p’ sound. He nudges him with his elbow. “Any plans for today, birthday boy? Or should I say...Boobear?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

Leaning into the other boy as well, Louis shakes his head, chuckling. He can feel Harry slowly place his head on top of his, his curls tickling his temples. Louis’ fingertips are itching to hold his hand, to take it and trace the veins that are visible under the pale skin, wants to lift to his lips and kiss it. But he knows that he’s not there yet.

He pushes the urge away for a moment to answer Harry’s previous question. “I have one thing in mind,” he says. Harry looks down at him in question.

“What’s that?”

“You’ve been to the auditorium, right?” asks Louis. Harry nods softly. “Have you been there while it’s empty?” Harry shakes his head ‘no’. Louis hums and smiles softly. He looks up, his eyelashes brushing against his cheekbones softly. Green eyes stare down at him with a hint of adoration and a mix of something else, and it makes Louis wonder what else he thinks about him. The fact that they’ve clicked so fast makes him regret not speaking up the first time he met this boy.

He’s got tonight, though. And maybe more days after that.

“Meet me there at nine.”

Harry smirks. “Why?”

“Trust me.”

––

Harry slowly makes his way to the auditorium doors. His hands are stuffed deep in his coat pockets and there’s a growing nervousness in the pit of his tummy. He’s only been to the place a few times for school events, but he hasn’t been here by himself, let alone with a very cute, older boy. The past two days have been so overwhelmingly nice to him, and he really hopes he doesn’t do anything stupid tonight.

Not like this is a date. Louis didn’t say it was…

Oh, well.

With snowflakes in his hair and on his eyelashes, he peaks through the tiny glass window on the big, red doors. It’s pitch black in the auditorium, no sign of Louis or anybody else. He bites down on his lip in nervous habit and slowly pushes the door open. He carefully takes a step in, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. It’s extra warm. He’s a bit scared. “Louis…?” He calls out, his voice echoing back to him.

There are a few moments of silence until suddenly a big spotlight is being shined upon him. He looks up at it, hands shielding away some of the light, eyes squinted in confusion. He doesn’t see who’s controlling it, but he can only assume it’s Louis. “Lou, what’re you doing?”

“Follow the light, okay? I’m gonna lead you to the stage,” the familiar northern accent calls. Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know was holding in, and chuckles.

“Alright,” he shouts. The spotlight starts moving, slowly guiding him down walkways and past the rows of chairs. He follows it meticulously with curious steps. He looks up from time to time to see if he can find Louis’ face, but he can’t manage to find him. Soon enough, he’s walking up the steps to the stage, and as the light trails to the center, he can see a red blanket laid out neatly, with a wicker basket sitting at the corner. He feels his face start to split open in a grin. The bright light stops and shines right upon the spot. “What is this?” He calls out.

“Just stay right there!” He hears Louis shouts. He shakes his head and does as he’s told.

  
Louis comes running up the steps, dressed in a fluffy white jumper and black sweats. His hair is all blown out and soft, his fringe brushing over his eyebrows. His smile is so animated and full once he’s face to face with Harry, and he can’t help but mimic the expression. He gazes down at the smaller boy. “Care to explain what that is?” He asks, nodding his head towards the small set up.

Louis shrugs a shoulder, giggling. “That’s...the thing I had planned,” he says. He starts to walk towards the area, Harry trailing behind, completely endeared. Louis slowly lowers himself to sit down. Harry does the same, his body full facing Louis. He stares at him expectantly, his heart beating erratically in his chest, anxious for what’s going to happen next. Louis’ still smiling, though, and there’s something in his eyes that just say it’s okay.

“I come here a lot, especially when it’s like this,” Louis starts, reaching out to grab the wicker basket at the far corner. He opens it up and starts unpacking it, setting out sandwiches, some fruit, a bottle of wine, and plastic cups. Harry listens as he continues, “It’s beautiful when it’s empty. Yeah, I also like the sight of a full house, but when I can see every individual seat, it sends another type of excitement in my body. It also makes me appreciate my own company if that makes sense.” Blue eyes look up at him again, so fucking captivating. Harry’s basically frozen in awe.

“It makes sense,” he assures. Louis hums.

“Well, yeah. I wanted to have, like, a picnic in here because it’s too fuckin’ cold outside, and this is my safe place,” he finishes. The last thing he brings out of the basket is the cupcake Harry had given him earlier. He sets the basket aside again, focusing his attention back on what he’s saying. Harry, on the other hand, happily waits for Louis to speak again. “I...also wanted to tell you something else, but...let’s eat first!”

Harry’s jaw drops. “Oh, come on! You can’t just drop that and then not tell me!” He teases, leaning forward to jokingly glare at Louis. He snorts out a laugh.

“Trust me.”

“I do.”

“Then eat,” Louis whispers, winking.

And so they do.

They eat in relative silence, the glowing spotlight warming them up. The sandwiches are surprisingly good, and when Harry asks where Louis had gotten them, the older boy smiles and proudly says that he, in fact, made them. (He also says that he snuck into the cafeteria to get the ingredients for them and that he’s the sneakiest person ever. Harry agrees just to make him smile more.) Eventually, they pop open the cheap bottle of wine Louis had snatched from the nearest Tesco.

As Harry fills up the plastic cups, he says, “This is really cool, you know?”

“What is?” Louis asks. Harry hands a cup to him, their fingers brushing quickly before their hands retract.

“The fact that we’re spending Christmas Eve in an empty auditorium together after spending a majority of the school year not talking to each other,” he points out, smirking. He sets the bottle of wine aside. He can see a soft pink hue appear on Louis’ cheeks.

“About that…” He starts to speak but trails off. He looks down at the cup of wine, and suddenly, takes a huge swig. Harry gasps, but Louis shakes his head, chuckling. “Kind of needed that so I can explain what’s happening here.”

Harry’s head cocks to the side, eyebrows furrowing. “Hm?”

Louis lets out a long sigh. He plays with the cup in his hand as he explains, “I...I sort of chose to stay on campus right after I found out you were staying too. For a handful of reasons.”

Harry’s heart basically lurches up into his throat. A million of questions run through his head in an instant and he wants to let them all out, but he knows Louis will probably answer them eventually. He nods for him to go on, hands carefully setting down his cup.

“Number one: I didn’t want you to be alone for Christmas,” Louis states. He’s staring at his drink, and his voice going soft. “I mean, I don’t know you that well. Or, I didn’t know you well, but just the thought of you staying here for Christmas kind of made me really sad?” He ends the statement like a question, his voice going up a few octaves in the cutest way possible. He looks back up at Harry for any sign of discouragement, but he just nods with a soothing smile on his face. He continues, “So, I like...quickly told my family I was staying here to get ahead of second semester, but really I’m just here so you don’t feel alone.”

_Oh. My. Fucking. God._

Harry’s about to collapse, but he takes another breath and says softly, “That’s...that’s sweet.”

Louis tears his gaze away from his cup to look up at Harry. He’s got a worried look on his face, and Harry wants to make sure he’s not stressing out. So, he scoots a bit forward. He extends his hand out, palm facing up. Louis slowly places his hand on top of his. Their fingers tangle with one another, a spark of something shooting through Harry’s veins, sending him soaring. He squeezes it a bit to reassure Louis. He continues, “Second reason and probably the last one, I..I’ve kinda...Uh…”

“Hey, you can tell me,” Harry urges, squeezing his hand once again. He runs his thumb over the knuckles to try and soothe Louis. Meanwhile, he feels like there’s a tornado in his stomach and his heart is as loud as a bass drum. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but he kinda likes the anticipation.

Louis slowly says, “I, uh...I might’ve had a crush on you...for a while…”

_I want to hold you right now._

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand. Harry squeezes back. They’re smiling. No words are being exchanged but it doesn’t matter at this point. Where they are right now is okay.

“Hey,” Harry calls.

“Yes?”

“What time is it?”

Louis’ hand momentarily leaves his as he reaches for the basket once again. He quickly grabs his phone from it. His eyes scan the screen for a moment. “It’s midnight,” he says.

You’re everything I want.

Harry scoots forward a bit more until their knees are touching. He reaches out to grab the phone from Louis’ hand and sets it aside. His movements slow down as he goes to caress Louis’ neck, fingers combing at the hair at the nape of his neck. He can feel the goosebumps start to rise up from the soft skin, and it makes him weak. His free hand goes to grab Louis’ hand once again. He reacts quickly, their fingers tangling together sweetly. Harry starts to lean forward, and he swears he can hear Louis take a sharp breath. He stops moving when their noses are mere centimeters away from each other. Their eyes meet instantly, blue eyes being guarded by beautiful lashes, green eyes nervous yet wanting. They can feel their breaths fanning over each other’s faces.

“Lou…”

“Yes?”

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers softly, and finally, presses his lips against Louis’, a shock of light and warmth spreading throughout his body. Thankfully, Louis reacts almost instantly, his other hand coming up to grab at Harry’s coat collar. His lips are soft and cold against Harry’s, and he tastes of cheap wine and winter, but it’s delicious and awakening and all things magical. When Harry licks at Louis’ bottom lip, he emits a soft sound from his throat. Their tongues meet slowly and sensually, savoring the moment for as long as they can.

Eventually, they pull away to catch their breaths, foreheads pressed against each other. Their hands are still linked and somehow, it has gotten even warmer. When Louis looks back into Harry’s eyes, they’re piercing and alive. His smile is exactly the same.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers.

  
_Fin._

 


End file.
